Face the Dark
by DarkNightMistress
Summary: Morgan and Reid are trapped by a cave in while pursuing an unsub, causing both of their worst nightmares to come true.  Morgan/Reid pre-slash.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters are fictional and not a depiction of their portrayers._

_Summary: __Morgan and Reid are trapped by a cave in while pursuing an unsub, causing both of their worst nightmares to come true.  
><em>

_Pairing: Morgan/Reid pre-slash._

_Warnings: None.  
><em>

_Notes: Not season specific. Apologies for any OOC behavior. I have very limited knowledge of the FBI and the medical field._

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><p><strong>Face the Dark<br>**

He woke to darkness.

Pitch, black emptiness and absolute silence encompassed him the likes of which he had never experienced before. He rolled his head against the hard surface beneath him, trying to make out the slightest glimpse of light or definition, and was met with searing pain inside his skull. He winced and reached up to his forehead where he felt the unmistakable warm, stickiness of blood.

He must have hit his head, but he wasn't sure how much time had passed or where he was; his mind was as murky as his surroundings. He reached his hands down to his sides and felt along the ground with his fingertips. They were met with the unmistakable rough, hardness of unyielding rock.

Rock. He was underground. Yes, underground in a cave. Chasing an unsub who had kidnapped a little girl in Washington state. Dead end. Hotch calling, telling him to return to base. The sound of rumbling, the sensation of tremors beneath his feet. His heart beat hard in his chest as he remembered running, running, running. Screaming…

And then, nothingness until he had opened his eyes to sheer darkness.

…_the inherent absence of light._

Derek sat up with a gasp, his head throbbing in protest. Spencer. God, Spencer had been with him, behind him. His heart dropped into his stomach in horror. "Spencer!" he screamed it aloud just as he had before the rocks had come tumbling down.

He scrambled to his knees and reached out with his hands in a wide arc, meeting nothing but empty air. "Spencer, where are you? Answer me!" his voice echoed off the cave walls, mocking him. He reached down and began to crawl, feeling along the ground with his hands. At one point he had been holding a flashlight, but he had clearly lost it in the cave in. He wasn't sure what direction he was going, but he had to move, had to find the kid. Spencer was surely panicking, trapped in absolute darkness.

Derek wouldn't allow himself to think about any alternative scenario.

He had only moved a few feet when his hands hit a solid wall before him. He felt his way up, up, up with no end to the rocky barrier apparent. But was this the way he had come from or the way they were going? Spencer had been behind him, but where was he now?

Derek took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly. With trembling hands he fished his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. The screen was cracked, he had no service, but with the small illumination provided he could see the wall of immovable stone in front of him. The ceiling of his enclosure was no more than 7 feet high and there was nothing to see but fallen rocks around him. The space had barely been large enough to lie down in, he realized, and it was a wonder he hadn't been injured further.

There was no sign of Spencer. "Spencer!" he screamed it again, his voice taking on an edge of hysteria. "Spencer, answer me! Please answer me!" He wasn't even sure which direction to turn, not that it would have mattered with the space so small and his voice enhanced by the booming echo.

He reached up to his shoulder, fumbling with his com link and switching it on, greeted by the sound of static. "Hotch," he said, still hopeful. "Come in Hotch."

Nothing.

"Hotch, it's Derek. Do you read me?"

He waited silently for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, but there was no response. He resisted the urge to tear the communicator off his shoulder and pitch it into a wall. _Calm, _he reminded himself. _Have to stay calm._

"Spencer!" He shouted so loudly he bent over from the agony in his head. _Oh God, oh God, please this can't be happening. This can't be happening, please. Please let him be okay. He has to be okay._

Then, so quiet he wouldn't have heard if it hadn't been for the absolute stillness of the cave, "Derek?" It was no more than a murmur, coming from behind one of the walls of fallen debris.

Derek dove towards the sound, holding up his phone and struggling to see if there was a gap in the rocks, no matter how small. "Spencer," he gasped out. "Spencer, thank God. Please tell me you're okay?"

A short pause, then a trembling voice, barely audible: "I'm okay, Derek."

His heart started hammering in his chest double time. The kid certainly did not sound okay. He sounded weak, and not just because of the wall that divided them.

_Liar._

Derek laid his hand against the stone surface that divided them, wishing that if they had to be trapped down here they could at least be trapped together. "We're going to get out of here, Spencer," he promised. "The team will know what happened and they're not going to give up looking."

It was so much easier to say something with conviction when you were trying to soothe someone else and not yourself. This cave might very well end up being their tomb, he realized. And that was a thought he absolutely wasn't going to voice. "Pretty boy?" he said when Spencer didn't reply. He leaned closer to the wall. "You still with me over there?"

"I'm still with you."

"Good…that's good. You just hang on. Just keep talking to me. We're going to be okay. The team will get us out of here, you'll see." _They have to. They have to…there's no other option._ "Spencer, I'd try to dig my way to you, but it could cause a another cave in. It's better if we sit tight, okay?"

"Yeah."

Fuck it. The kid should have been spouting off statistics about cave systems, not giving him one-syllable answers. "Do you still have your flashlight at least?"

"Lost it."

"Your cell phone? You have that on you, right?"

A pause. "Can't get to it."

Derek felt a sudden sensation of dread spread throughout his body and set his nerves on end. He licked his lips with a too-dry tongue and forced the next words out, fearing the answer. "Why can't you get to your phone, kiddo?"

Spencer didn't respond.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: While I don't believe it constitutes a warning, please know that this is Morgan/Reid pre-slash. I always indicate character pairings/future pairings in my stories, and the majority of them are slash or pre-slash. If this isn't your cup of tea I will not be offended if you jump ship. For those of you still on board, enjoy the ride._

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><p>"Spencer? You need to tell me why you can't get to your phone." Derek's heart was beating in his throat, his hands pressed against the cold layer of rock before him. "Are you hurt?"<p>

He was afraid for a moment that he had lost the kid to unconsciousness…or something worse. This separation was absolute agony, and no matter what Spencer said to him he knew he wasn't getting the whole truth.

"…trapped…" the soft word reverberated in his mind as it did off the walls of the cave. He swallowed hard, his mouth gone dry.

Trapped. That could mean any number of things. Any number of horrible, gut-wrenching things. His rationality went right out the window and he found himself reneging on his early warning. "I'm going to try to get to you, kiddo," he said, leaning close to the wall before him. "I'll be careful."

"Derek, you can't," the younger man's voice had taken on a renewed vigor. "You said it yourself – it could cause another cave in. Do you know what the chances are that we aren't already dead?"

"No, I don't, and you're not going to tell me," Derek ground out. "I told you, we're getting out of here, and I meant it."

"You can't try to get to me," Spencer said, and despite the firmness of the statement there was an undertone of longing evident. "It's too dangerous. You can't risk it. I'll…I'll be okay…"

"Is there any chance you can get free?" Derek demanded.

"No," it was soft, voiced with regret. "We'll just have to wait."

_Like Hell…_

"I can't leave you alone like that…" Derek said. He knew it was foolish, but he knew it to be true.

"And I can't risk something happening to you because you stupidly try to get to me."

They were at an impasse. Derek turned around in frustration and sat down with his back against the wall, his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Spencer," he whispered. Maybe if he had been faster…maybe if he had held on to the kid as they were running out of the cave…if he had been paying more attention to their surroundings…

He hadn't meant for Spencer to hear him. "How is any of this your fault? It's not your job to protect me."

_It is though… _Tears stung Derek's eyes as he thought of Spencer – his pretty boy – lost in complete darkness, his biggest fear, and beyond his reach. He could be half-buried under rubble and he wouldn't tell Derek the truth – was too stubborn, too used to having to take care of himself. Even when he was younger, Derek knew he had been unable to rely on anyone but himself. Asking for help was a foreign concept to him, no matter how badly he needed it.

And every time Spencer put himself in danger – every damn time – Derek wanted to grab the kid and throw him behind the shield of his own body. The times he had stupidly put down his gun, taken off his vest, tried to talk down an unsub…and there had been more than one. Spencer wielded words as his weapon, seemingly uncaring about the danger he was putting himself in. Well, Derek cared. He cared…more than he should sometimes, he realized. It wasn't that he didn't trust Spencer to take care of himself…the young man had proven time and time again that he was more than capable. But why couldn't he just ask for help when he needed it?

Derek ground his hands into fists in frustration. He realized Spencer hadn't spoken for a while. "Talk to me, kid," he demanded, his voice weary. "Please just keep talking to me, I need to know you're okay."

"I told you…I am."

"Then…then talk to me because I need to know that you're with me down here. I need to know that you're close by."

"Derek," the kid sounded…almost amused by the statement. "Being trapped in darkness isn't your nightmare…it's mine."

"This is my nightmare, pretty boy," Derek admitted, the words falling unbidden from his lips. "Knowing you're hurt…scared…and being unable to reach you. This is my worst nightmare, Spencer."

He had never admitted anything so close to his real feelings before, but though it was prompted by agony he felt a weight lift from his chest.

There was silence for a moment, and Derek almost regretted what he had said, even though it was no more than the truth. He wouldn't be surprised if the kid didn't know how to respond to the admission.

"Spencer?" he dared.

He was greeted by a groan of pain.

"_Spencer?_" he whirled around to face the wall once more, hands clutching at the rocky barrier as though he could reach through and touch the kid on the other side. "What's wrong? Tell me."

"I'm…" a cough, "I'm…okay…"

_Fuck._ Now the kid was really fading, he could tell. He couldn't just sit there, not doing anything. "You're not okay Spencer." He began to crawl along the wall, using the greenish glow of his cell phone to light the way, trying once more to find a gap in the rock.

"I…am…" another moan of pain, worse than the last.

Derek spotted two large rocks at the base of the wall, leaning against each other like a pyramid with smaller debris filling the base. If he could clear out the smaller stones it might just be enough room for him to wriggle through. "Spencer, hold on, I'm coming to you."

"No!" the word was almost shouted, and Derek didn't want to know how much strength it had taken out of the young man.

"I'll be okay," he said. "It's going to be okay. I think I found a way through."

"No…no…Derek, you can't…too risky…"

"If anything starts to happen, anything at all, I'll stop digging, okay? But I have to try. I have to. Spencer?"

He was greeted by silence.

Derek set his phone aside and dove at the pyramid of rocks, hands grabbing, digging, moving stones and dirt out of the way. He wasn't sure how long it would take, realized his fingers were already cut and bleeding, but dammit, he was going to reach the other side.

He had to.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The cold November ground was unrelenting as Derek dug through dirt and debris, his nails peeling and his fingers slicking with blood as he clawed at the rocky barrier. He worked at a frenzied pace, little by little widening a path that would fit his broad shoulders and allow him to maneuver his way to the other side of the wall that divided them.

He had no concept of time as he shifted stone and fallen rubble, but every once in a while he would call out, "Spencer?" to make sure the kid was still with him. Each time he received a muffled reply begging him to stop.

He knew he should. He was being foolish and was putting both of their lives in danger after expressly telling Spencer that they should stay put and wait for the team to find them. But after hearing that the younger man was hurt it was as though his mind and body had been possessed with an undeterred desperation to reach him.

Subconsciously he was looking for light that would indicate he had reached the other side, even though he knew there would be no such comfort. He was digging through darkness, and there would be no salvation or warmth to greet him.

His shoulders ached and his hands were burning with the pain of myriad cuts when he suddenly punched through to empty air. He was flat on his chest at this point, his arms stretched out before him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Spencer," he said, hurriedly pushing rocks out of his way into the opening before him. "I'm almost through."

That's when he heard the grinding shift of the wall above him and Spencer's frantic cry. "Derek! Hurry!"

He dove forward into the tunnel he had made, the narrow walls now trembling around him as stones began to tumble downwards to fill the space. He took a gasping breath, sucking in a cloud of dust, and gagged.

"Derek!"

Kicking his feet into the dirt behind him he propelled himself forward, scrabbling at the solid ground with hands that already ached with abuse. He could hear the unmistakable sound of rocks falling and crashing behind him, and several smaller stones hit his legs, making him wince. He was fully immersed in the pathway he had created and he wriggled his shoulders and hips, not daring to breathe as he scrambled forward.

"Derek!"

Then, finally, he had reached the other side. Even though the pitch black he had expected offered no relief he was finally able to take a deep breath and the feeling of claustrophobia subsided. The narrow opening was filling up fast and threatened to pin his legs. He launched himself forward as the pathway disappeared in a final tumble of rock, barely pulling his feet free in time, and choked on another cloud of dust. He pitched forward onto the ground and lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, as the sounds of the cave in he had caused began to subside.

After a moment there was only silence, and he lay there staring into the darkness wondering absently if his eyes were open or closed. With sight alone there was no way to tell.

"Derek?" his name wasn't shouted this time, but whimpered in fear.

He sprung to his knees, fully alert once more. "Spencer? It's okay, kiddo, I made it through. Keep talking, tell me where you are."

"That has to be one of the stupidest things you have ever done," the younger agent grumbled, his tone changed to one of irritation now that he knew Derek was unharmed. "How was it possibly going to help me if you were crushed to death?"

"Well I wasn't, was I? So your point is moot." Derek began crawling toward the sound of Spencer's voice. It would be easier if he just used his…

"Shit!"

"What is it?" Spencer instantly sounded alarmed once more.

"My phone. I left it on the other side of the fucking wall."

"Maybe my flashlight is around here somewhere. You couldn't find yours?"

"No," he was getting closer to the kid, he could tell.

With a sudden splash and a chill he found his right hand up to the wrist in water. "Spencer?"

"I'm here."

The kid was close. Derek swallowed hard. "Spencer, are you in the water?"

"Um. Sort of."

_Shit._ "I'm almost to you, kid."

"I think if you follow the edge you'll find me."

Derek let one hand trail in the chilly water as he followed the young man's advice and began a slow trek along the side of the shallow pool. "I didn't even notice this damn thing earlier."

"Well, we were running. I didn't notice until I was in it." Spencer was suddenly overtaken with a fit of coughing that made Derek's blood run cold. He increased his pace.

Suddenly his hand was met with something warm and soft, and shaking. He closed his fingers around what he knew to be Spencer's shoulder and wanted to shout in relief. The kid was still coughing violently and Derek sat down next to him and slipped an arm around his back.

"I got you now, kiddo," he murmured, struggling to lift the young man upright. "I'm right here."

Spencer's coughs finally subsided into gasps for breath and Derek allowed himself to take stock of the situation. Without use of his eyes he could only rely on his hands to tell him how badly the kid was injured. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," Spencer assured him, still breathing heavily. "I'm okay now."

He noticed that when he had tried to lift the young man into a sitting position he had been unsuccessful. "Where are you hurt?" he demanded, and without permission he ran his hands over Spencer's shoulders, up his neck and to his head where he began to check for wounds. He found a spot of wetness on the kid's forehead by his hairline that felt too sticky and warm to be water.

"I'm okay from the chest up," Spencer assured him.

Derek's stomach sank. He could tell the young man was laying in the water from about his elbows down, his head thankfully resting on dry land, but as he ran his hands down Spencer's chest he only made it halfway down his ribs before he encountered an unquestionable mass of rock.

His nerves spiraled outward in fear, setting every inch of his body ablaze, and his heart pounded in his chest so hard he was sure Spencer could hear it. With shaking hands he felt along the edge of the stone, and realized it covered the young man across the torso and was several feet long, pinning both of his legs. There were several smaller stones around Spencer's frame that Derek was able to move easily enough, and he tossed them aside, at least feeling like he was doing _something_.

But that rock. That fucking massive slab of rock was crushing Spencer from the chest down and Derek couldn't even _see _how much damage it was doing. He could take a guess but he really didn't want to think about it.

He shifted back out of the water and settle by Spencer's shoulder, trying not to indicate that he wanted to burst out of his skin in desperation. The kid couldn't see the look of worry on his face, but he could sure as hell hear it in his voice and feel it in his touch.

He forced himself to remain calm and ask the next question as though it was to someone he had never met before in his life. "Spencer," he said. His hand found the kid's arm and he squeezed lightly. "I want you to answer something for me and I want you to be honest, okay?"

"Okay."

"Can you…can you move your feet?"

A moment's pause, but it was a moment too long and Derek had to swallow hard against the feeling of bile creeping up the back of his throat.

"Yes," Spencer murmured. "Yes I…think so."

"You think so?"

"It's cold."

"Please try."

Another pause and then Spencer said, "Yes…I can."

"You're sure."

"Yes."

"Okay…okay," Derek took a deep breath. "That's good." He paused and licked his lips, hating to admit his own weakness. "That rock is too big for me to move, kiddo."

"I know. That's why I told you I was fine."

Derek was incredulous at the kid's logic. "But you're _not _fine."

"And there's nothing you can do to fix it, so why would I ask you to try?"

Derek was pretty sure his heart was breaking. He felt his way down Spencer's arm until he reached the cold and clammy hand where it lay on the young man's chest and covered it with his own, entwining their fingers. "We're going to get out of here, Spencer," he vowed.

"I know."

Derek had a feeling he was just saying that to appease him. "I need you to stay with me until the team gets here, okay? That means you have to promise to keep talking to me." He ran his other hand over Spencer's hair, tucking a few errant strands behind the kid's ear.

"Can you promise me something too?" Spencer asked.

"Of course, pretty boy, anything you need. Just name it."

"Not yet," Spencer said, his voice eerily hollow. "There is something but…not yet."

Derek did not like the way that sounded, but he said, "Okay." And prayed that the team found them before he had to make a promise he didn't want to keep.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

It was cold. Painfully cold.

Despite Derek's best efforts he couldn't repress the shivering that overtook his body. He had no way to tell how much time had passed since he had dug himself through to Spencer, but he felt certain that it had been hours. He knew that no matter how much the cold was seeping into his skin, chilling him to the bone, the younger man was much worse off. Half immersed in a freezing pool of water as he was, Derek could feel his body shaking and trembling, his teeth chattering audibly.

He had maneuvered himself as close to the edge of the pool as he dared, trying not to get any more wet than necessary. It would do neither of them any good if they were both near hypothermic – and Derek had a feeling that if he wasn't careful Spencer could fast approach that stage. He managed to tuck the young agent's form against his chest, his head resting in the curve of Derek's shoulder. The older man had long ago removed his jacket and wrapped it around Spencer's thin frame, over the jacket he already wore.

He could tell Spencer was exhausted, but he was absolutely terrified of letting him go to sleep. He knew from the blood he had felt earlier that the kid had hit his head, and the last thing Derek needed right now was to worry about him slipping into unconsciousness. It wasn't lost on him that he had sustained his own head injury, and he made it his mission to stay awake to ensure that Spencer was as well.

Every few minutes he would give the young man a gentle shake and Spencer would groan in annoyance at being denied an escape.

"Derek, please…I'm so tired…" he gasped as Derek shook him awake for the millionth time. "Please…please…"

Derek pressed his lips against the soft locks of Spencer's hair. "I know it's hard, kiddo, but I need you to stay awake for me."

"Please…I'm so tired…" his voice was trembling but this time Derek could tell it wasn't from the cold but from the threat of tears.

"I need you to talk to me," the older agent said. "I need you to help me stay awake, can you do that?" He felt guilty, but he wasn't about to let the kid slip away from him as long as he could help it. "Why don't you tell me a story?"

"A story?" the voice was tentative, soft.

"Something your mom used to read you." He had no doubt in his mind that Spencer had memorized every word Diana had spoken from the page when he was a boy. "Something I've never heard before."

Spencer sniffled and Derek could feel the warmth of tears against his neck. "I don't…I can't…"

"Yes you can, baby boy," Derek murmured into his hair. "Come on now, do it for me." He could feel Spencer's fingers clutch against his chest as he grasped a handful of the older man's shirt and held fast.

When he began to speak, it was no more than a whisper in the darkness. Derek held him close and listened to the words that fell from his lips as though he were in a trance, devoid of emotion.

"…Now the woeful notes begin to make themselves heard; now am I come where much lamentation smites me. I had come into a place mute of all light that bellows as the sea does in a tempest, if it be combated by opposing winds. The infernal hurricane that never rests carries along the spirits in its rapine; whirling and smiting it molests them. When they arrive before its rushing blast, here are shrieks, and bewailing, and lamenting; here they blaspheme the power divine. I understood that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to appetite. And as their wings bear along the starlings in the cold season in a troop large and full, so that blast the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up it carries them; no hope ever comforts them, not of repose, but even of less pain."*

His voice melted away as quietly as it had begun. Derek stroked his hand over the younger man's hair. "Keep going," he asked, even though the words were chilling him as much as the cold.

"Can't…" Spencer moaned. He was suddenly overtaken by a fit of coughing that wracked his body and Derek held him fast, trying to keep him upright.

When the coughing didn't slow right away, the older man felt fear squeeze his heart. "Try to breathe, Spencer," he begged, even though he realized it was a futile plea. "Try to calm down." He reached his hand up to cup the younger man's cheek and when his thumb grazed Spencer's chin he felt a warm trickle of blood.

He felt himself deny it. He refused to make the kid panic further.

Finally, the slender body stilled and Derek breathed a sigh of relief. "You're okay," he murmured, as much to reassure himself as anything. "You're okay now." And there had not…there had _not_ been blood on the young man's chin. He was going to be fine. "Spencer?"

"I wish I could see you," his soft voice suddenly cut through the darkness, and the tone was so desperate it broke Derek's heart.

"Me too," he whispered. "But I can feel you. And you can feel me. You know I'm here with you and I'm not going to leave your side."

"I'm so tired…" this time it was said on a gentle sigh as though he was giving up the fight against Derek and against himself.

"Please, Spencer…please stay with me…"

"Derek?"

"What is it baby boy?"

"I need…I need you to promise to tell my mom…"

If Derek could have seen, his vision would have gone red with fury. "Don't you _dare_ speak like that," he growled, unable to mask the bite in his voice. "You don't need to ask me to do anything, because the team is going to find us and we're both going to be fine. And whatever you want to tell your mom, you can tell her yourself."

There was silence, and Derek wondered if he had gotten through to the kid so easily. Then, once more, he felt the tremble of silent crying against his chest. "Derek…" his voice was shaking and was so quiet the older agent could barely make it out. "I don't…I don't want to die here."

"You're _not_ going to die here, Spencer. I won't let you. You hear me?"

"You don't have control over that," the young man argued, logic winning him over even now.

"You are staying awake," Derek insisted. "And you are staying with me. And they are going to find us, and we are going to get out of here, and you're going to be fine, and one day this is just going to be a horrible memory that we look back on."

There was a small voice in the back of Derek's mind chanting _what if, what if, what if…_ and he forced it back. Spencer was going to be fine. They were both going to be fine. And as long as they were down here in this Hell, blinded and hurt and trapped, the only thing that mattered was that they were together and Derek had meant what he said. He was not leaving Spencer's side, no matter what.

"Now," Derek said, "keep going."

Spencer took a shuddering breath.

"Come on," Derek nudged, "I need you to keep talking to me, Spencer. I need you."

A moment of silence, and then the whisper filled the cave once more.

"Love, that on gentle heart quickly lays hold, seized him for the person that was taken from me, and the mode still hurts me. Love, which absolves no loved one from loving, seized me for the pleasing of him so strongly that, as thou seest, it does not even now abandon me. Love brought us to one death."*

His voice faded into the darkness, and this time when Derek shook the fragile body pressed against him he felt terror grip his heart. Spencer lay still in his arms.

TBC

*Dante's_ Inferno_, Canto V

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><p><em>Note: If anyone is panicking, please refer to my profile. I don't write death fics.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_Please...please…please, Hotch…someone, anyone…please find us…please let us get out of here…please let him be okay…I need him to be okay…I'll do anything…anything…just let him be okay…I need him…please…I need him…_

He tried. He tried so damn hard to keep his faith down there in the oppressive darkness that surrounded him and the frail young man clinging to life in his arms. Eventually Derek couldn't help but let exhaustion claim him, his mind spinning with worry, his heart pounding against his ribcage, the sensory deprivation of the cave slowly but surely tearing down his resolve.

Spencer was the one thing that kept him going. Only his desperation to see the boy safely through this ordeal prevented him from utterly losing his mind. He would see the kid out of here, he swore, safe and well. He would see that smile again, those hazel eyes glittering in the sunlight. He would save Spencer Reid, because that was all that mattered in this world…this cold, bleak emptiness that had them trapped in its depths.

_Please, Hotch, please find us…Spencer needs you…please help him…please let him be okay…I need him to be okay…_

He held firm to his mental determination as little by little his strength began to fail him. Spencer was leaning against his chest, as much of the half-buried, lithe body pressed up against Derek as he could manage. The shivering had stopped and that was not a good sign. Slowly, Derek lay down on the freezing stone floor, curling his body at the edge of the pool of water, surrounding Spencer with as much warmth as he could. He positioned the young man so that his head rested on Derek's bicep, and he pulled his other arm tight around the upper portion of the kid's chest, hugging him close.

"Stay with me, Spencer," he murmured into the soft locks of the boy's hair. "I never give you credit for how strong you are. Well, now's your chance to prove it to me, kiddo. You just keep breathing. Keep holding on. Help will be here soon." He could feel the rise and fall of Spencer's chest and it calmed him. As long as the kid was still breathing, there was hope.

_Please…please…please…_

"I don't think you know how much you mean to me, Spencer. I don't think you've ever known how much you mean to me. And that's my fault." Perhaps this was the one chance Derek would have to speak to the other agent without being forced to engage in verbal sparring. Not that he minded Spencer's razor sharp mind and wit. He would have given anything in the world to hear the young genius's voice spouting facts at him in that moment.

"I wasn't lying earlier, Spencer. When I told you that this is my worst nightmare, that was true. Knowing that you're hurt and there's nothing I can do for you…this is my greatest fear come alive. So you need to help me through this. I can only stay strong if you stay strong, sweet boy. Without you…without you…"

…_there's nothing…_

Worse than darkness. Worse than loneliness. Worse than hopelessness.

Derek felt the sting behind his eyes, but what did it matter? The only person down here to witness him cry was lying unconscious in his arms. He buried his face in Spencer's hair and let the tears fall freely, knowing that there was nothing he could do for him, and feeling completely, utterly helpless in a way he never had before.

"…Derek…?"

It was said so softly he almost missed it, but immediately Derek stopped crying and lifted his face, blinking into the darkness. He hadn't felt Spencer move. "Are you awake, baby boy?" he pleaded, desperation gripping his heart.

"Don't cry, Derek…everything's…fine…"

"Spencer, I'm so...so…sorry."

"… not your fault…" His voice was like a lilting whisper, and Derek didn't like it. He sounded much too calm.

"I should have been able to protect you from this," he ground out. "I should be able to save you now."

"…not your fault…"

"Spencer…" he could feel the tears stinging his eyes once more.

"…just hold me? Don't want…to be alone…"

Derek lay his head down once more, pressing his face to the back of Spencer's neck. "Shhh…I'm right here, baby boy. I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"…thank…you…"

Why did that sound so much like goodbye?

Derek held the young man tight against him, his heart racing. How much longer did the kid have? What if Hotch didn't get to them in time?

_No…NO!_

Derek banished the thought. "Stay with me, Spencer," he whispered. "Please stay with me."

A soft moan was the only response, and then he could hear nothing but the gentle wheezing of breath and knew that the kid's lungs were beginning to fail him.

Everything seemed…surreal. It felt as though he was floating in the darkness. "Spencer?" This time there was no response of any kind and he knew he had lost the kid to unconsciousness once more.

His body felt heavy, his eyes closed, and all he wanted to do was sleep. There was nothing he could do now…nothing but wait. Wait for what, he wasn't sure. Wait for rescue, or something worse?

At least he was with his boy, his young genius, who he couldn't imagine life without. That was all that mattered, in the end.

It was his last thought before darkness truly claimed him.

X X X X X

"Morgan? Morgan!"

There was a commotion around him, and a hand gripping his shoulder, shaking him roughly. His eyes popped open and were instantly assaulted by light, forcing him to squint.

Light…there was light…

"Morgan!"

"Hotch?" he gasped and turned, looking up into the face of his Unit Chief. He had never been so grateful to see another person in his entire life. "Thank God," his voice was dry and rough. "Thank you, God." He could hear voices behind him, the scraping of rocks being moved and rearranged.

"Morgan, we need to get you out of here."

"Not without Spencer," he turned and saw the back of the kid's head, still resting on his upper arm. "Spencer?" He shook the young man gently.

"Morgan," the tone which Hotch used was not lost on him. It was a voice that said focus, remain calm, and there's nothing you can do. "We need to get you out of here so they can work on freeing Reid. You're in the way."

"Is he…" he swallowed hard, "is he…"

"He has a pulse," Hotch promised, "but they have to work fast."

"I have to stay with him." There was a woman kneeling beside them, her latex gloves slipping under Spencer's head, holding him gently. The separation was almost more than he could bear.

"Sir," the EMT said, "we need to help the young man, but we can't do that until you're safely extracted. Please trust us."

He had been waiting so long for this moment, and now it seemed that everything was happening so fast. There was a man, another EMT, who scooped an arm under his shoulders and began to lift him upwards, Hotch quickly moving to assist. Everything felt like it was turned on its head. For so long it had been nothing but him, Spencer and the darkness.

He felt worse when he reached his feet and stared down at where the young agent lay. He looked like a broken doll, blood covering his forehead, his chin, even dripping from his nose. Several other EMTs moved in, blocking Derek's view, but he could see the rock that had the young man trapped, and realized he had been right. He wished to God he hadn't been.

Spencer's arms were scrapped raw, the white material of his button down shirt that was visible under the bullet-proof vest was stained with spots of red, and there was no way to tell where it was coming from. He heard himself give a guttural cry of despair, but it was nothing he could control. He almost fell to his knees next to Spencer's body, but Hotch was holding him upright and they were trying to pull him away from the scene. He didn't want to go. He had promised Spencer he wouldn't leave him.

The attending medics were wrapping the boy in a thick blanket and fitting an oxygen mask around his nose and mouth. There were several rescue workers assembled, clearly trying to advise how best to move the slab of rock. "Let me stay with him," Derek pleaded, trying unsuccessfully to wrench out of Hotch's grasp. "He needs me."

"Morgan, you're injured," Hotch said, and suddenly JJ was there before him, tear tracks on her pale cheeks. "JJ will stay with Reid," he promised. "We need to get you out of here."

Another medic appeared, and he felt himself being handed over. "We'll take it from here, Sir." He looked down and saw a stretcher which he was being prompted to lie down on.

"I'm _fine!_" He lashed out.

"Sir, you've sustained a head injury. We need you to lie down and we'll get you out of here."

"Morgan," it was Emily, her warm brown eyes pleading.

"Prentiss," he gasped. "Tell them…tell them I have to stay with Spencer…"

She shook her head. "They're taking care of him, Morgan. Come on, I'll ride to the hospital with you."

"_No!_" he whirled back around and saw a crowd of people gathered around Spencer. JJ sat by his head, brushing soft chestnut locks back from his face. Derek could see her lips move but couldn't make out what she was saying. All he could think was that it should be _him _there, sitting with Spencer and comforting him.

A sudden wave of dizziness overtook him and he stumbled. "Morgan!" it was Emily's voice, panicked.

"Sir," then one of the EMTs, "you should not be standing. I need you to lie down now so we can get you out of here."

"Morgan, listen to them."

"Please, Sir."

"Morgan, Reid will be okay, I promise. We have to get you to the hospital."

Too much…too much…

Another wave of dizziness hit him and he allowed himself to be lowered to the ground, lying down on the stretcher even though every fiber of his being screamed that leaving Spencer was a mistake.

He was being lifted, and he turned his head at an awkward angle to look back towards the young man. "Spencer!" he called out. "Spencer, everything will be okay, I promise!"

"Derek, you need to rest." He felt Emily capture his hand and they began to move. He stared up at the rocky ceiling above him as the source of their entrapment passed him by.

"I shouldn't have fallen asleep," he groaned, tears on his cheeks once more. "I should have stayed awake for him."

"Stop being ridiculous," Emily snapped.

"I should have done more to protect him. I should have…I should have…" Things were growing dark once more, but this time he knew it was his vision tunneling in on him.

"You did everything you possibly could," Emily promised him.

"Prentiss…if…if he…"

"He'll be fine."

"I need him."

Her frustration seemed to give way to compassion once more, and he knew that it was only worry that had driven her temper. He felt her cool hand stroking his forehead. "I know," she said sadly.

Then everything went dark once more.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

_To My Readers: Sincerest apologies for the delay in posting the latest installment. Unfortunately, my day job has been eating up most of my time for the past month. I hope to go back to posting on a regular weekly schedule. ~DNM_

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><p>Spencer died – in pain, in the cold, surrounded by darkness – and there was nothing Derek could do to save him.<p>

The desperation and the despair were drowning him, and there was no escape. He stood in the darkness, listening to Spencer scream his name, hearing the agony in his voice; the pleading, the fear, the cries for help, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't see and he couldn't move, not physically restrained but frozen in place. All he could do was call out empty assurances and promises he knew he would be unable to keep.

He heard the cries dissolve into the empty air, and knew the young man was lost to him. He collapsed in on himself, sobbing Spencer's name, begging and pleading for another chance, but it was a futile. He was alone.

And then it would begin all over again.

"_Derek? Derek, help me!"_

"_Spencer, it's going to be alright! I'll find you, I promise!"_

"_Derek, please!"_

"_Everything's going to be okay, baby boy. Just tell me where you are! Spencer, where you are you?"_

"_I'm here! I need you!"_

"_Spencer, hang on!"_

"_Derek, help me! Derek!"_

"_Spencer? Spencer!"_

Over and over it happened on an endless, hopeless cycle, and every time Derek would fail. He had promised Spencer he would be okay. He had sworn he would make it out of there alive and well – that he would see the sun again.

But he was nothing more than a liar.

"Derek?"

It was happening again.

"I'm here, I'm right here. I'll find you."

"Derek, I need you to come back to us."

"Spencer, it's going to be okay, I promise."

"Derek, open your eyes."

"Spencer where are you?"

He clawed his way through the darkness with only one target in mind. He had to reach Spencer this time. He had to.

"That's it, Derek, open your eyes."

"Spencer?"

Finally…_finally_…he saw the faintest glimmer of light. He could make out nothing but blurry, fuzzy whiteness, but he pressed onward, feeling as though he might have a chance at last.

"Derek?"

He felt someone squeeze his hand. How could that be?

"Spencer?"

The brightness before him was suddenly so blinding it made him wince, and he felt himself blinking rapidly against the pain. As the light began to dull to a more bearable level he could make out a shadowy figure above him.

"Spencer?"

"No, Derek, it's Garcia."

Was she trapped too? "What are you doing here?"

"I came as soon as JJ called me. I've been here all night. Oh God, Derek, don't you ever scare me like that again!"

He frowned in confusion, and then her face slowly began to come into focus; thick framed glasses, dark red lipstick, a tousle of bright blond hair…

It really was her.

"Garcia?"

"Yeah, it's me." She was smiling but sounded as though she was about to cry.

With a jolt and a gasp, everything suddenly rushed back to him and his surroundings became immediately clear. His eyes darted around the hospital room and his senses seemed to capture everything at once; bright fluorescent lights overhead, sterile walls, an uncomfortable bed, the soft but steady beep of machines…

"Hotch really did come."

He hadn't lied after all.

"Yes…yes he did." She still sounded close to tears and when Derek looked up into her eyes he could see the pain and fear written there. He felt guilty for having put her through such anguish. "No one was about to let those rescue workers give up. You were down there for almost two days, but they managed to dig their way through."

He reached up and captured her cheek in his hand. "Hey, baby girl, don't cry. I'm all right."

She covered his hand with her own and let out a deep, shaky breath. "I know…I know. I just wish you'd listen to me when I tell you to stop putting yourself in dangerous situations."

"You know that's not realistic."

"Well, a girl can dream." She managed a smile and he was immediately overcome with gratitude that he was with her again. He hadn't realized how much he had truly needed to see her until that moment.

His relief was short lived.

The crushing weight of panic suddenly settled on his chest and he began to gasp for air, struggling to sit up and grasping at Garcia's arms for leverage. "Spencer," he choked out. "Where's Spencer?" Oh God, where was he? How could he have slipped Derek's mind for even a second?

Garcia put her hands on his shoulders and gently pressed him back into the pillows. "Shhh," her face was as stern as he'd ever seen it. "Derek, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths."

He tried, but his body wouldn't cooperate. "Garcia," he begged. "Tell me where he is. Is he alright?" He searched her glistening eyes for any clues but she managed to keep her emotions in check.

"Derek, please, stay still and listen to me."

Somehow he managed to stop struggling, but he could feel himself practically vibrating with anxiety.

"Reid was in surgery for most of the night. He's in ICU now. JJ's with him. Prentiss has been keeping me up to date and as of an hour ago he hadn't woken up yet."

Derek could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. "But he will wake up." It wasn't a question.

Garcia managed a sad smile. "I know he will."

"And his legs?" Derek pressed on. "Can he walk?"

"As far as they can tell there was no spinal injury, but they won't know the full extent of the damage until he's awake. JJ learned what she could. Both legs are broken – the right one up to the hip. He has three broken ribs, a punctured lung, head trauma, they had to remove his spleen…" Her face suddenly went pale. "I…shouldn't be telling you this."

"No…no…I need to know." He started to sit up again. "I need to see him."

She pushed him back once more and he grabbed onto her upper arms and held fast, as though she was his lifeline. "Derek, you just woke up. Let me call the doctor so he can check you out."

He shook his head. "I'm fine, Garcia, you have to believe me. I need to get to Spencer. I need to be with him. "

She reached up and pushed the call button on the wall next to his bed. "You will be soon."

"I promised him…I swore I wouldn't leave him."

She captured his face in her hands. "He knows you would never leave him, Derek. Besides, our baby genius is stronger than we give him credit for."

"I know he is." He thought back to their time in the cave, when Spencer had lied and told Derek that he was fine even though he was being slowly crushed to death; how he had tried to comfort Derek despite the amount of pain he was in; how he had clung to consciousness because Derek had asked it of him. "What if he wakes up and doesn't know where he is? He'll expect me to be there. What if he thinks something happened to me? What if he's scared?"

Garcia opened her mouth to reply, presumably with another reassurance, but at that moment the door to the room opened and a tall, thin man with dark hair and a white lab coat brushed into the room. "Welcome back, Agent Morgan. I'm Dr. Evanston."

"Doc, I need to get out of here, I need to see if my…if my friend is alright."

Garcia vacated the seat next to him so that the doctor could sit down. "Let's just check you out before I let you go anywhere."

"I promise you, I'm fine," Derek tried to keep the bite in his voice to a minimum, barely managing to sit sill as the doctor flashed a small, bright light back and forth in front of his eyes.

"Derek if you get out of that bed without permission I will kick your ass so hard you won't walk for a week."

Dr. Evanston flicked his gaze over to Garcia and then back to Derek. "Good to have a friend who cares so much about you." He pressed down on Derek's abdomen. "Any pain?"

"No. I'm fine. What can you tell me about Spencer Reid? When do you expect him to wake up?"

The careful neutrality of the doctor's face was not lost on him, nor was the fact that he didn't meet Derek's gaze. "I'm not assigned to your friend's case," he stated. "But I do know there was a significant amount of damage. However, I'm not at liberty to discuss specifics of another patient's condition."

Derek felt his blood boil. "You need to let me see him," he said darkly. "_Now_."

This time the doctor did look up, and whatever he saw in Derek's eyes must have been enough to convince him to give the agent the all clear. "I'll have a nurse bring a wheelchair," he said, climbing to his feet. "There's a robe in the closet. You're friend can assist you." He hastily departed the room.

Derek looked up at Garcia and saw her red lips set in a grim line. "Am I really that scary?"

"You can be, yes," she admitted. "It's a good thing I know you're a big fuzzy teddy bear deep inside." She walked over to the closet and pulled out the robe.

"I need to see Spencer." He didn't know what else to say. He didn't know any other ways to express his desperation. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He caught a disapproving look from Garcia but she pulled the robe around him and helped slip his arms into the sleeves.

"Derek," she said quietly, taking his face in her hands once more, her eyes seeking his. "What happened down there?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but he knew she wasn't talking about the cave in or the physical injuries he and Spencer had sustained. What _had _happened down there, in the dark? How could he explain to another person what the two of them had been through together?

How could he put into the words the abject terror he felt at the thought of losing Spencer, the desperation to be with the young man nearly suffocating him with its intensity?

"I…I need to be with him." It was all he could manage and he saw Garcia nod sadly, as though accepting that she would never understand. "I can't…I-I can't…"

"You aren't going to lose him," she promised, and her voice held such conviction he – almost – believed her.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Through the glass window of the ICU he could make out JJ's petite figure and long blonde hair. She was huddled over a young man who was barely visible through the bandages, wires, and tubes that covered him. Spencer's face was pale and eerily serene, a large gauze bandage on the right side of his forehead, a purple bruise on his cheek, and an oxygen tube running to his nose. A blanket covered him from the chest down, hiding the rest of the damage.

He knew it irritated Spencer how young he looked – how young he _was_ compared to the rest of the unit – especially when one of his team members tried to take care of him and made him feel like a baby. But seeing him in that hospital bed with his head resting on the pillow, dark blond hair framing his face battered face, Derek thought he looked positively angelic and innocent in a way that made a voice in the back of his head scream _protect, protect, protect!_

JJ stood up from her post next to Spencer and headed for the door, but Derek didn't watch her progress. He put his hand to the glass that separated him from his pretty boy and felt the urge well up to smash through it with his fist. It should be _him _lying there, not this brilliant kid whose life should never be placed in danger. Why the Hell had he even allowed the younger agent to accompany him on that case in the first place?

Dammit, his irrationality was starting to feel a lot like Garcia's over-protective nature. But he didn't care.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. "Derek?"

He turned and looked up into JJ's eyes, puffy and red from crying. She immediately dropped down to where he was sitting in the wheelchair and engulfed him in a tight embrace. "Thank God," she murmured. "We thought we had lost you both."

He desperately wanted to reassure her, to promise her that everything was fine and not to worry, but his mouth had gone bone dry and he couldn't manage to form the words. All he could do was hug her back and hope she understood how much she meant to him.

She pulled back and ran the heels of her palms over her eyes, dashing away tears. "They'll only let one of us in at a time," she said. "Do you want to sit with him?"

He could only nod, words still failing him, and JJ stepped to the side to allow himself to wheel his way towards the door. Prentiss put an arm around her and hugged her close. "Come on, Jayje. Let's grab a cup of coffee." She turned to Garcia, "You'll stay here with them?"

"Of course."

Derek paid the ladies no attention as he wheeled himself into the room and over to the side of Spencer's bed, shoving the chair JJ had been using out of the way. He managed to get as close as the wheelchair would permit – stupid hospital and their stupid policies – and felt his eyes well with tears as he studied Spencer's face. His eyes were sunken in his cheeks and surrounded by purplish circles, his bottom lip split and swollen.

Derek captured Spencer's hand in his own, carefully avoiding knuckles that had been scraped raw. He reached up with his other hand and brushed his fingers through the soft locks of the young man's hair, rubbing the silky strands between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hey kiddo," he whispered. He wasn't sure if he could speak louder if he tried. His throat felt as though it was closing up tight to hold back a further onslaught of tears. "I told you we would get out of there, and the team came through just like I promised. So you can wake up now and let me know about the miraculous odds of our survival." He managed a weak smile. "They tried to keep me away from you, but I wouldn't let them. I'm right here with you and I'm not going anywhere."

Part of him expected, or at least hoped, that Spencer would immediately open his eyes as soon as he sensed Derek's presence, but that was nothing more than vanity. The young man lay still with the exception of the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his hand was limp – no squeeze of reassurance to let Derek know he heard him even if he couldn't respond.

Derek remembered two other horrendous, gut-churning times when he had sat vigil by Spencer's hospital bed. The first had been the night they had recovered him from Tobias Henkel's grasp. Spencer had refused to go to the hospital, trying to assure the team he was fine, but Gideon told him he would be dragged there kicking and screaming if need be. The kid had been beaten – literally to death – and had been, they found out later, repeatedly drugged.

Gideon had sat with Spencer for most of the night, at the time the closest to a father figure the boy had ever had, but Derek had taken a shift near dawn and he remembered watching Spencer's pale face in the early morning sunlight, eyelids twitching as he fought his way through a nightmare. He had woken screaming, and Derek had been there to catch him as he tried to spring from the bed. He had taken the young man in his arms and held him so tightly he was afraid the frail form would crumble in his embrace. Spencer had gripped Derek's shirt, face pressed to his chest as he sobbed out his pain and fear and – yes - even guilt over taking Henkel's life. Derek had held him, stroking his hair, murmuring words of comfort until Spencer finally relaxed against him and fell back asleep, his head resting on the older agent's shoulder.

They had never spoken of that night. But it was the first time Derek had realized how strong his feelings were for the kid.

The second time had been recent, and another time when Derek swore that if he had just been paying more attention Spencer would have been fine. A ridiculous notion, but hard to shake none-the-less. The kid had been exposed to Anthrax, and only the threat to the entire city was enough to tear Derek away. Even then Spencer had to be the one to convince him to go, and walking away from him was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

That night had been agony – waiting to see if Spencer would live or die, wiping blood from the boy's chin, hearing the coughs wrack his body, and through it all Spencer had refused pain medication. It had been somewhat of a relief when he had passed out, but Derek was frozen with terror until the cure was identified and was proven to work. He had refused to leave Spencer's bedside that night until the kid woke up again. He didn't know what he would have done if he had lost him.

And now, here they were again.

Derek ran his hand over Spencer's hair, smoothing it back from his forehead. "I bet if you wake up I can convince the nurse to bring you Jello," he teased, forcing a smile onto his face.

Spencer lay still, pale, completely unmoving. The only sound in the room was the steady beeping of machines. "Come on, kiddo," Derek pleaded, his voice low. "We've been through this before. You can wake up – I know you can. You're stronger than most people give you credit for."

He waited a moment, hoping once more that his voice had penetrated Spencer's unconscious mind. Then he leaned forward, his chest resting against the side of the bed so his face was level with the young man's. "I need you to wake up, Spencer," he said, and dammit, there it was again – the threat of tears in his voice. "I…I need you. I can't do this without you."

I can't _live _he realized is what he meant, and his heart hammered against his ribs so hard he wondered if that sound alone would be enough to wake the young man.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of Spencer's hand and looked at his battered face, trying to will him back into consciousness simply with his presence. The beeping of machines became almost hypnotic and he found himself monitoring Spencer's breathing, the slight rise and fall of his chest, and Derek was grateful for every breath.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, it seemed that he had tuned out all senses of the outside world, so he jumped when he felt a hand grip his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he heard Garcia murmur. "The doctor says you need to go back to your room. Visiting hours are over and you need your rest."

Derek didn't turn. "Well you can tell the doctor I'm not leaving."

There was a beat of silence and he felt guilt wash over him for putting Garcia in this position. It wasn't her job to mediate his stubbornness. "I…don't think that's gonna fly, hun," she said sadly. "They'll have doctor's monitoring him, you know that."

"I promised him I wouldn't leave him, not in that goddamn cave and not here, and I am not going to break that promise. I am not leaving this room until he wakes up and I know he's okay."

"Derek, he _will _wake up…you need to believe that."

"I do."

"Then come on, let me take you back to your room. You can come back here first thing in the morning, I promise."

"Send the doctor in here to talk to me himself if he's so insistent."

Garcia made a sound of exasperation. "Derek…"

A groan from the bed silenced them both.

Derek leaned forward, his heart pounding, clutching Spencer's hand tightly. "Spencer? Kiddo, can you hear me?"

This time he did feel the lanky fingers wrapped around his own squeeze lightly and he pressed a kiss to the boy's knuckles, an irrepressible grin spreading over his face. "Thank you, God," he murmured.

Spencer's body began to shift slightly under the sheets, his eyelids squeezing shut hard, and then flickering, dark eyelashes beginning to reveal the hazel orbs underneath.

"That's it pretty boy, open your eyes," Derek coaxed. "You're safe."

Spencer groaned again, his head turning on the pillow toward the sound of Derek's voice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Derek?" he murmured.

"It's me…I'm here, just like I promised I would be."

Spencer blinked rapidly. "Where are we?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"We're in the hospital, kiddo. Everything is fine."

_Now that you're awake._

Spencer frowned, his eyes moving back and forth. "We're not in the cave?"

"No, we got out. Hotch came for us, just like I promised you he would."

Spencer's frown remained on his face and he blinked hard, then moved his eyes again as though searching for Derek's face.

Derek felt a chill of fear race down his spine. "Spencer," he said softly, still gripping the kid's hand tight in his own. "What's wrong? Tell me."

Spencer blinked again, and suddenly his face took on a look of absolute terror, his breathing starting to come in desperate gasps.

"Spencer? Baby, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Derek…" his voice was shaking. "Derek…I can't see."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

_To My Readers: Once again, apologies for taking so long to post this installment. The day job has been sucking my soul out and not leaving me with much time to write. I promise I won't let this story fall by the wayside, just bear with me - if you can - during this extremely busy time. I truly appreciate all of your feedback and support. ~DNM_

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><p>"Garcia," Derek didn't turn, his voice low and even. "Get the doctor."<p>

He heard the sound of her rapid footsteps fleeing the room, but his focus was on the terrified young man before him.

"Derek?" Spencer was beginning to hyperventilate, his body shaking, his voice pleading and panicked. He reached out his hands, searching through the air before him, and Derek caught them in his own and squeezed them tightly.

"I'm right here, baby boy. Right here with you. Just breathe, okay? Try to relax. We'll figure this out." He was semi-conscious of the words tumbling from his mouth, but only one thing mattered at this moment and that was calming Spencer down.

Tears began to spill from the boy's unseeing eyes as he gulped down air in an effort to obey. "I d-don't understand," his voice was shaking like he was frozen to the bone. "W-why is this happening?" He struggled to sit up from his semi-reclined position against the pillows behind him and hissed in pain.

"Don't move, kiddo. You've just had surgery and you busted some ribs and both of your legs. Just lay still."

More tears made their way down Spencer's cheeks and he sniffed hard, hazel eyes staring ahead, and right through Derek. His hands slid up to grip the older agent's forearms, his fingers digging in painfully hard as though he needed the connection to make sure the man in front of him was real. Derek didn't think he had ever seen Spencer this scared, not even when he had faced down Tobias Hankel, a gun pointed at his head. He wished he could say something – _anything _– to make it better.

"What am I going to do?" the boy pleaded. "Derek…"

Derek reached up and wiped away an escaped tear with his thumb. "The doctor is on his way right now. We'll figure out what's going on, okay? I swear to you, we will get through this and everything is going to be alright."

"I'm scared," he whispered.

"I know, baby," Derek's heart was breaking. _So am I._

He heard the sound of several people rushing into the room and turned to see a man in a white lab coat followed by two nurses and Garcia, her face grim. "Sir, I need you to step outside," Spencer's doctor was a small man, but he didn't hesitate to insist that the agent leave.

Spencer made a mewl of protest and gripped Derek's arms tighter. Derek turned to the doctor. "I think I should stay."

He shook his head. "Please, sir, I need room. We need to run a few tests."

"Derek?" Spencer was shaking like a leaf.

"It's okay, baby. They're going to take care of you," he tossed the last part back to the doctor, his gaze hard as steel. He was at war within himself, agonized at the thought of leaving Spencer but knowing the best thing for him would be to let the doctor run his tests. They needed to know exactly what they were up against.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Spencer's forehead. "I'll be right outside," he promised. Before he could break his resolve, he wheeled back from the bed, Spencer's hands not leaving their grip on his arms till the last possible second.

He turned away and headed for the door, unable to look back at the fear in the boy's unseeing eyes. He left the room and Garcia followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

In the hallway he found the rest of the team standing in a semi-circle, all silent and with panic-stricken faces. Garcia had clearly told them the latest news.

"What's going on?" JJ demanded, her eyes still red.

Derek rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, covering his mouth in his hands and shutting his eyes, trying to regain his composure.

"The doctor's with Spencer," Garcia answered for him, a hand squeezing his shoulder. "They're running some tests but he promised to keep us updated."

"Is this from the head injury?" Rossi asked.

"I guess…I didn't think it was that bad, but what do I know?"

"I'm surprised Reid didn't try to self-diagnose," Prentiss observed.

"He's too freaked out," Derek finally spoke, looking up at his colleagues. "He's not thinking straight."

"Well of course not," JJ replied, walking over to the window of the ICU. "I mean, can you imagine? Spence, blind?" There were tears in her voice. "Not able to look at evidence? Not able to _read_?"

The last was like a dagger to Derek's heart. "We don't know yet if…if…" _it's permanent… _He couldn't let himself finish.

The words hung unspoken in the air and no one knew what to say.

The thought of this young man, this brilliant minded kid, having to endure blindness for the rest of his days was too much for Derek to bear. When they were in the cave he had been so determined to get Spencer out of there, to make sure he saw the sunlight again. What would the kid do if he were trapped in a darkness from which there was no escape?

Derek felt like his blood was boiling in his veins, but there was no outlet for his rage. There was nothing he could do and that infuriated him to no end. There was no unsub to take down. No one to standoff with. No one to threaten. No one to cuff. No one to bring to justice. There was no one to blame for what had happened to Spencer.

Except maybe himself for letting the kid go with him in the first place.

He turned his chair and wheeled away from the group without another word, making a beeline back to his room. "Derek!" He heard Garcia call out, the sound of her footsteps growing closer behind him. "Derek, what the Hell are you doing?"

"Checking myself out of this damn hospital."

She caught up with him and tried to cut him off but he didn't slow. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I'm an adult. I'm mobile. I'm lucid. I'm checking myself out."

"But what if…"

"Spencer needs me," Derek said as he reached his room. "And my focus needs to be on him, one hundred percent. That means getting the Hell out of here so the doctors are only hovering over one of us. Now are you going to help me or not?"

He turned on her, determination set on his face, but he already knew he had her. He felt mildly guilty that he could manipulate her this way, playing on how much she cared about him, but he had to have her on his side.

Garcia sighed, puffing out air through fire engine red lips. "Of course I am," she admitted. "Hotch grabbed some clean clothes for you. I'll find them."

Before she could walk away, Derek reached out and captured her hand in his, squeezing it lightly. "Thank you."

"Just one more thing, Derek. When did you decide it was your job to take care of Spencer?"

Derek blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I didn't…it's not a job. I just…have to."

Garcia nodded and a smile ghosted over her lips.

It was enough.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Derek had completed the agonizingly long process of checking himself out, his heart was beating double time in his chest at the thought of how long he'd been away from Spencer's side. His hip jarred painfully – a fact he had left out when the doctor gave him a final once over – and his head ached as he practically ran back to the younger agent's room. He had sent Garcia on ahead of him, and when he rounded the corner he saw her standing with the rest of the team in a semi-circle around Spencer's doctor.

As Derek joined the group, Garcia captured his hand in her own, interlocking their fingers. "What did I miss?" Derek gasped out, practically out of breath from his near-sprint down the hall.

"Nothing," Garcia assured him. "Dr. Benson here was just about to give us the latest."

The doctor nodded as the attention was turned back to him. "Dr. Reid as has given me permission to share his medical status with you all," he said. "We don't typically give out this information to non-family members."

_We are Spencer's family, _Derek thought, and he knew the others thought the same, but they kept quiet.

"I know the primary concern right now is Dr. Reid's eyesight," Dr. Benson continued. "My initial examination leads me to believe that the condition is likely temporary, a side effect from slight brain swelling. However, I am going to conduct an MRI shortly to confirm that there is no further damage to the optic nerve or internal bleeding."

"And how, exactly, did you miss this the first time around?" Derek snapped before he could stop himself. He was so on edge – had been for so long now – that he couldn't remember what it was like to think rationally.

"Swelling this minor can often be overlooked when more severe injuries take precedence. It is also very likely that this is a recent development, since Dr. Reid's series of surgeries. Whatever the case, I feel certain that this situation is minor and reversible."

"And if it isn't?"

Garcia squeezed his hand tightly.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Derek's insides roared. How could this man simply shrug his shoulders at Spencer's condition? Didn't he understand how much the kid needed his eyesight? Didn't he know how brilliant Spencer was? How many books he read in a week? That he was terrified of the dark?

Garcia squeezed his hand again and Derek's vision cleared. He swallowed hard and licked his lips. "I'd like to sit with him."

The doctor nodded. "Of course. There will be a couple of nurses by in about an hour to bring him down for the MRI. You can stay with him until then." He turned on his heel and walked away, and Derek felt himself believing every stereotype he had heard about the callousness of doctors.

"Derek…" Garcia warned, sensing his mood.

"He may not be warm and fuzzy, but he's the best of the best," Rossi assured.

"At what? Being a dick?"

JJ crossed to him and took his other hand in between hers. "Think positive, Derek. Spencer needs you."

Derek took a deep breath and shut his eyes, centering himself. "I know…I know he does. I just wish I could…punch something. Shoot something. Arrest someone."

"Believe me, I know the feeling," Hotch's voice was even more bitter than usual.

"Go sit with Spencer," Garcia nudged. She lifted her hand to reveal a small stuffed dragon, fuzzy and purple. "And give this to him from me. "

Derek took the proffered toy. "When did you have time to go by the gift shop?"

"When the front desk was harassing you about checking out early. Now get in there."

Derek nodded, pulled in another deep breath and let it puff out through his lips, then left the circle of his friends and slipped inside Spencer's room, shutting the door behind him. He wondered how long the rest of the team would stand out in the hall. He had a feeling they wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

He walked to Spencer's bedside and pulled up the chair he had pushed away earlier, settling by the kid's head. Spencer had turned his body at an awkward angle, trying to lay on his side facing away from the door, but couldn't quite manage it with his numerous injuries. His head faced away from Derek, eyes closed, and it was impossible to tell whether or not he was sleeping.

Derek assumed not since the kid had been so worked up about his eyesight He reached out and ran a hand over the length of Spencer's soft, coppery curls. "Hey kiddo," he murmured. "You with me over there?"

Spencer sniffled and reached a hand up to his face, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. He said nothing.

"Spencer," Derek said softly. His voice died in his throat. He didn't have any idea what he was trying to say. He reached over Spencer's body and set the stuffed dragon between the kid's arm and chest. "Garcia bought you a present. It's dragon. It's…um…it's purple."

Spencer clutched the toy to his chest, fingers picking at the fuzziness. After a moment he rolled fully onto his back, his unseeing eyes half open between tear spiked lashes. He held the stuffed dragon tight.

Derek tucked a lock of hair behind Spencer's ear. "The doctor says he thinks the blindness is temporary. He thinks it's due to minor swelling that's going to go down."

Spencer frowned. "He's a liar."

"What? Spencer, listen, I know he's not exactly the puppies and sunshine type, but he's very good at what he does. He said your loss of eyesight is temporary and I believe him." Or he would believe him as long as he could convince Spencer to do the same.

Spencer's cheeks colored, his jaw clenching. "50 percent chance," he spat out. "He doesn't need to pretend with me. I know the truth. There is a 50 percent chance that I'll ever see again."

Derek's mouth went dry and he swallowed hard. "How do you know that?"

"How do I know anything I know? I've read about it. I've learned about it. I just _know_, okay? And that doctor is a lying sonofabitch."

Derek practically lurched backwards in surprise. He had never heard Spencer swear so viciously before. "Well," he finally said. "I choose to believe him. I'm thinking positive here. I believe you will see again, Spencer. This is just a glitch and you're going to be fine."

There was a moment of silence. Suddenly, Spencer sat up with a guttural scream of rage, and the stuffed dragon was launched across the room with enough force to bounce off the TV that hung on the opposite wall. The kid collapsed once more, groaning from the pain he had caused his ribs.

"Spencer!" Derek jumped up from the chair and settled on the side of the bed, leaning over the younger agent.

"Believe whatever you want," Spencer growled through an onslaught of tears that ran down his cheeks. "I don't care. I don't care what that damn doctor says. I know the truth."

"Spencer," Derek put his hands on the boy's cheeks, his thumbs smoothing away tear tracks. "It's going to be okay. Don't listen to the doctor. That's fine. But you need to listen to _me. _I believe that you will see again, and you need to believe it too."

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut tight, shaking his head back and forth on the pillow. "I can't believe that, Derek," he cried. "I _can't. _What if I start relying on that as fact, and I spend the rest of my life waiting to see again? What if every single day that I wake up from now on is nothing but a disappointment? It's better to believe the worst than get my hopes up."

"Like when we were in the cave?" Derek asked. "Because if I remember correctly I told you over and over again we were going to be rescued, and here we are."

Spencer laughed bitterly through his tears. "That was sheer, dumb luck, Derek. Not odds. Not statistics. It's a miracle they found us."

"So why can't your sight returning be a miracle too?"

Spencer sobbed. "It's too much, Derek. It's too much. What if I start to believe it and I can never see again? Never read again? Never help the team again? Never write a letter to my mom again?"

"Shhh…" Derek leaned down, capturing Spencer in an awkward embrace, sliding his hands behind the young man's shoulders and lifting slightly. Spencer buried his face in Derek's shirt, sobbing in earnest. "We'll figure it out, okay? Whatever happens, we'll figure it out."

"We?" Spencer sniffed.

"Of course. I didn't leave you alone in that cave, and I'm not going anywhere now. Whatever you need, I'll be here for you."

Spencer tried to push his way out of Derek's grasp but the older man held fast. "You can't promise something like that."

"Yes I can. I'm not a percentage, or a statistic, or a miracle. I'm just a man, and if I choose to stay by your side it's because I care about you."

Spencer began to cry harder once more. "It isn't fair to you. Even now…shouldn't you be in bed, Derek? Aren't you hurt?"

"I'm fine, I promise. Just a couple bumps and bruises. The doc let me go without a second thought." Not exactly the truth but no sense in working Spencer up about it.

"I can't ask you to be there for me every time I need you. It isn't fair."

"It is fair because it's what I _want_."

Spencer pulled back slightly and opened his eyes. Derek studied his face, tear streaked and blotchy, eyelids swollen from crying. "Derek, I wish…" he swallowed hard. "I just wish I could see you."

Derek shut his eyes tight. When he opened them again Spencer was still staring up at him blankly. "You can feel me, can't you kiddo?" he squeezed his arms around the young man's shoulders. "You know I'm holding you, right?"

Spencer nodded, shutting his eyes to release a new onslaught of tears. "Derek, I'm…" He took a shuddering breath. "I'm scared. I'm really, _really _scared." His voice broke in agony.

"I know," Derek whispered, pulling Spencer against him once more. "I am too, baby boy. But I promise you that no matter what, I'm not going to give up hope, and I'm not going to leave your side. I'm not going to let you face this alone."

Spencer finally returned his embrace, long arms wrapping tight around Derek's back. "You promise?" he whispered.

"I swear."

They sat like that for a while, just holding each other, Spencer's tears eventually tapering off into ragged breathing. He buried his face against Derek's chest as though he wished he could disappear inside him. Derek reached up and stroked the young man's hair, murmuring nonsense words of comfort into his ear.

The door creaked open and Derek turned, Spencer still tight against him. Two nurses stood in the doorway, smiles on their faces that shouldn't have been there under the circumstances.

"Spencer Reid?" one of the nurses said. "We need to take you down to your MRI. It's time."

"Derek?" Spencer murmured against the older agent's chest.

"Shhh…it's okay, kiddo. I promise you, whatever happens, I'm not going to let you face this alone."

End Part One


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